


time and again

by rainny_days



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, and get Feelings, and then watch the arashi blast in hawaii, fifteen years of slow burn, i just wanted them to help each other out, i mean contexually, im very sorry about that, kind of, the rest of arashi are only mentioned, what happens when i watch the vs arashi fifteenth year sp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:03:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainny_days/pseuds/rainny_days
Summary: Nino, Ohno, and all the ways that they save each other.(or: two times that Nino and Ohno convince each other to stay in Arashi, and one time neither of them had to)





	time and again

**Author's Note:**

> um so i binged a bunch of fifteenth-anniversary sp's and got Emotional about Ohno wanting to quit, and then i got emotional about Nino wanting to quit but not, partially because of Ohno's words, and then there were 3k of h/c and i don't know, okay, i'm very sensitive about these boys

_1999_

Nino wakes up in the middle of the night, aching for home.

Homesickness isn’t unfamiliar to him, though he’d gotten used to it in the years after he’d joined Johnny’s, his mother pushing him out the door with solemn, hopeful eyes and a 2000 yen bill in her hand. It didn’t ever quite get easier, but he learned to swallow the sick lump of _want_ and paste on a bright smile instead. Now, though, the last thing he wanted to do was smile.

Slipping out of bed, he glances over to Aiba and Jun, making sure that they’re both still asleep. Aiba’s snoring, a high, whistling sound that’s become strangely comforting throughout the years. Jun’s perfectly still, orderly even in sleep, arms and feet tucked neatly beneath his sheets. Nino’s eyes linger on their figures, wondering how they could rest when they were- when they’ve been _tricked_ into the rest of their lives. He wanted to go to America to learn filmmaking, not to continue on the path that’s become more and more suffocating throughout the years. He was sick of it - the spotlight, the constant expectations, the constant plastic-bright fakeness of it all - he just wanted to make something that was _his_ , for once.

Apparently, that was an impossible task.

The hallways are dark, and wider than he is used to, and he wonders if it’s an American thing, or if it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. Probably both. He goes into an elevator and through the lobby, not sure where he wants to go, except _anywhere but here._

He couldn’t understand why this was happening- why _him_ , of all people? Jun was an elite, of course, and Ohno’s talent had made him well-known despite his withdrawn personality. Aiba wasn’t as popular, but had an instinctive charm that made everybody who saw him fall a little in love. Sho didn’t want to do this either, but he was a natural speaker, charming and polite, with an edge of rebelliousness and a penchant for _rap_ , of all things. It was no wonder why Johnny wanted them.

But _Nino_ ? There was no reason to pick him. Nino had no illusions about his abilities- he knew he had a pretty okay voice for Johnny’s, even if he didn’t have, as the vocal coach put it, the greatest pitch control. He knew he could play the guitar, which was enticing- but then, so could half of the company. He knew he was good at talking, but he didn't _like_ to, most of the time, and he used his charms to wrap up conversations instead of making them more interesting. He was good at acting, but he preferred historical pieces and deep, involving dramas to the bombastic action pieces and romances that made an idol’s career. He wasn’t built for Johnny’s, and he hated the fact that Johnny apparently chose him to be a building block regardless.

Caught within his furious thoughts, he stumbles a bit when he sees a pair of scruffy sneakers inches from his, lifting his eyes from the pavement that he’d been aimlessly walking on up over worn blue jeans, a tank top (wasn't it _cold_?), and meeting a pair of dark brown eyes.

“Ohno-san?” he blurts out, surprised. Ohno blinks at him, slow and sleepy.

“Ah, Nino.”

Nino stares at him, but gets nothing else from the older boy. He shuffles awkwardly, at a loss. He hated _this_ , too, how this situation made him clumsy and awkward around Ohno. It had been so _easy_ , before there were cameras involved.

A touch brings his eyes up again, and he flushes as he meets Ohno’s eyes again. Ohno looks at him, more pensive.

“Nino can't sleep either?” he asks, voice soft but somehow still too loud for the night. Nino winces slightly, nods.

“I just- had to get out of there.” he glances up, smiles a bit hesitantly. “Ohno-san too, huh?”

Ohno blinks at him again, but instead of answering his question, he says: “Why are you calling me that?”

“What?” Nino’s heart pounds a bit louder.

“‘Ohno-san’,” Ohno says. “You always called me Oh-chan over the phone.”

Nino stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, ducks his gaze. “Yeah, on the _phone_.”

He stops, not wanting to go any further, but Ohno’s silence is comforting and coaxing, and Nino ends up spilling everything to him, as he always does.

“It’s just- _this_ , you know? The whole debuting thing. All the cameras, the reporters, and I didn't want-” he hesitates. “I thought it might be awkward, to call you Oh-chan in front of everyone, I didn't like it.”

“And now?” Ohno’s voice is strangely insistent, and Nino feels the same _something_ in the air between them that was there in Kyoto, when he’d first talked to this strange, graceful boy and got himself pulled into his orbit. He bites his lip.

“It’s weird, isn’t it? Now that we’re in this group- in _Arashi_.”

He spits the word out, suddenly furious.

“I just, I hate this so much,” he bites out, faster and faster. “If I call you Oh-chan, then it means that it’s really us, here, and I don't want it to be real. I didn't- I don't want _this_.”

He settles down, breathing faster, furious. He hears the sound of shuffling feet, and then arms around his shoulders. He stiffens, then lets himself melt into the embrace.

“I don't want this either,” Ohno says into his hair, a comforting presence around him, smelling of boy and cold. “But I’m glad I got to see Nino again.”

Slowly, Nino takes his hands out of his pockets, pulls them up until they’re wrapped around Ohno’s back. His skin is cool, slightly clammy, and Nino wants to weep at how he finally feels like he’s on solid ground.

He doesn’t, though, because it’s pathetic enough that he’s doing this, clinging onto Ohno like a baby. He’d tried so hard to look cool to the older boy, to pretend that the two years between them didn't matter, that he could keep up, that he could have someone like Ohno as his friend, and it had all been swept away in a moment. He almost wants to be mad at himself, but he can't bring himself to regret holding onto Ohno.

“Are you going to keep doing this?” he whispers into the space beneath them, as seconds pass. He doesn't mean the hug.

“I-” Ohno sounds hesitant, and Nino, reluctantly, pulls away slightly so that he can see the other boy’s eyes. “I don't want to do this, but it doesn't feel right to quit right now, does it?”

“Matsujun wants this so badly,” Nino confirms. “He’s wanted to debut forever, and this is his chance. Aiba-chan doesn’t really get it, but he wants to be with us- he cried when I told him I was planning to go to school in America. Sho-chan - I’m worried about Sho-chan, he’s going to _university_ \- but he’s never going to quit, either, and I don't want to leave him behind.”

“I heard the song,” Ohno says. “They worked so hard on it, for us. All of these people are doing so much so that we can be here. I don't want to just leave, not like this.”

“So, stay?” Nino feels something unwravel in his stomach, and can't quite identify it as disappointment or relief. Some part of him wanted Ohno to say that he was going to quit, so that Nino would have the courage to do it, too. But they were both boys, and they were stuck here.

“Stay,” Ohno confirms, and tightens his arms around him. “Together.”

“Together,” Nino repeats, and allows himself to feel something like hope.

* * *

_2008_

Ohno walks away from his Maou rehearsals feeling drained.

It’s been constant lately, the deep weariness that hangs on him like one of those feathered jackets that he wears for concerts, the weight impossible to become used to. It feels like he’s being pulled a million different directions, with Arashi activities and drama shootings and art exhibits and his own, nagging desire that this might be it, for him.

All of this, compounded by the scandal.

It’s been months since the pictures broke, but that doesn't mean that Ohno feels any less horrified, any less guilty at the sensation that they caused. Even now, as he waves goodbye to has castmates, he can't help but feel their judgment hanging over him- more importantly, hanging over Arashi.

He flags a taxi down, tucking himself into the backseat with a quiet sigh. He was used to a level of invasion into his private life- he was a fifth of an increasingly popular idol group, a name that people cared about, even he still couldn't quite process it. Everyone in Arashi knew that they were sacrificing some part of their right to privacy by being here, that it had been gone from the second they joined Johnny’s, but Ohno had never quite understood the enormity of it until his scandal broke, until his he had to face his manager, his mother, his bandmates with the trouble that he’d caused for them all.

Not that the other members had been cruel about it- on the contrary, they had gathered around him like a pride of lions, daring anyone to try to get to Ohno. Sho had texted him every second of every day, sending him food and reminding him to sleep. Aiba gave him a million little gifts, talking to him in a constant, cheerful stream until he got Ohno to smile. Jun had joined his manager in hunting down the people that published this, and the younger boy had made the journalist _cry_ with the force of his vitriol.

And Nino- well, Nino was always just _there_ , somehow constantly by his side, in his reach. Whenever Ohno turned around, he would be beside him, playing video games or humming with his guitar or just leaning quietly against him, a constant reminder that he wasn't alone. Even now, when most of the sensation had died down, Nino still stubbornly remained at his side.

Ohno didn't know how to put into words, how grateful he was. He’d never been good with speaking, and the shock of the whirlwind that surrounded him had robbed him even further of his speech. He _was_ thankful, though, to his bandmates.

And guilty.

The entire time, while they were standing beside him, he was wondering if it wouldn’t be better if he’d just left, so that they didn't have to deal with this, so they could pick a better leader. He’d been somewhat horrified that the idea had filled him with a kind of peace. He’d never wanted this for himself, and although he loved Arashi like breathing, he thought that maybe it would be okay if he left them behind, if he chose to be selfish and pursue his own goals instead, unfettered by the chains that publicity forced on him. It wasn't as if they wouldn't be able to talk to each other if he left, or anything. Nothing would have to change but his free time, his obligations.

At least, that’s what he liked to tell himself.

Arriving at his door, he rummages in his pockets, slightly relieved to find that he does, in fact, have his keys on him. As he opens the door, he blinks at the sight of the lights still on, the smell of miso soup and stir-fry from his living room.

“Kaa-chan?” he says, wondering. There is the sound of something being put down, and a dark head of hair appears in his line of sight.

“Not quite, Ohno-san,” Nino replies, lips lifting at the edges. “You’re late, get in here. The food’s going to get cold.”

Ohno follows him, toeing off his shoes and shuffling down the hallway and into the small living room, where a simple meal is set out on the dining table.

“Thank you for the food,” Ohno says, bringing his palms together before digging in. The warmth of the rice is a godsend, and so is the spicy-sweetness of the pork stir-fry. He hums in contentment, looking up at Nino to find him smirking, although Ohno can see an edge of hesitance in his stance.

“‘S good,” he says, around a bite of food. Nino’s shoulders untense slightly, and his smile becomes a touch more genuine.

“You’re such an airhead,” he says fondly, sliding into the seat across from Ohno. “Aren't you going to ask me how I got in?”

Ohno blinks. “Huh.”

Nino’s head tilts back as he laughs, a clear sound that Ohno has never gotten tired of, not since he’d first heard it at seventeen, from the mouth of a clever, mischievous fourteen-year-old that somehow chose _him_ as his new friend.

“You left your door open, dummy,” Nino tells him, voice warm. “Sho-chan freaked the fuck out when I texted him, started making a list of self-locking doors. I think he’s afraid of predators.”

“Like, aliens?” Ohno asks, just to make him laugh again. Nino obliges, and pets his arm.

“I was just going to order delivery, but your vegetables were wilting, and I’m not a proponent of throwing away food. Why _did_ you have pork in your fridge, anyways?”

“Kaa-chan comes over to cook sometimes,” Ohno explains, and Nino makes a hum of understanding.

They sit in comfortable silence as Ohno demolishes his food, and the edges of Nino’s eyes soften at Ohno’s drooping eyes.

“Sleepy?” he says, and Ohno nods in response. “I guessed. It’s been hard on you, huh, Leader, what with all this craziness. You’re not cut out for drama.”

Ohno isn't sure if Nino means the filming for Maou, or the scandal. Knowing his love of wordplay, probably both. He shrugs in response, and Nino goes around the table and helps him up, lets Ohno lean on him as he leads him into his bedroom.

“We’re here, though, you know that?” Nino murmurs, as he tucks Ohno in, movements gentle. He’s always so much more honest at times like this, when he thinks that Ohno isn't paying enough attention. “No matter what you do, we’re sticking with you. Arashi is five people, after all, and you’ll always be our leader.”

It should sound like a threat, the responsibility that Nino is laying on him, but his voice is soft and undemanding, and Ohno understands what Nino is trying to say: _If you want to leave, it’s fine, because we love you. We’ll always love you_. No matter what, Arashi will follow him, even if it means that Arashi is no longer what it is, they’ll still be what they are.

It’s such a Nino way of comfort, threat and reassurance and perfect, silent understanding all in one, that Ohno curls his fingers over Nino’s wrists when he stands to leave, tugs him back down.

“Stay?” he says, trying not to let his feelings overwhelm his voice. It doesn't work.

Nino doesn't answer, just tucks himself in besides him. Stays, quiet, even as his shirt is stained with tears.

The next day, Ohno goes to a photoshoot with Arashi, and his smile is genuine in all the pictures.

* * *

_2014_

Nino finds Ohno standing on the balcony of his hotel room, teary-eyed again.

“More waterworks, Leader?” he says, voice falling just short of teasing. “The others are waiting for you- well, I’m pretty sure Aiba’s passed out on J already, considering how he was when I left. Sho-chan and Matsujun are waiting, though.”

Ohno turns to look at him, eyes bright. “Nino,” he says, reverent. “Nino, _fifteen years_.”

Nino laughs, moves towards him. They are side-by-side, the warmth between them familiar, and Nino leans into it a little, marvelling at how the scenery has changed in fifteen years.

“Fifteen years,” he agrees, something giddy in his voice. “Bet you’d never thought we’d get here.”

It’s a reminder of how close the were to _not_ being here, the revelations of how close Ohno was to leaving still a shock in his system. Even if he’d had his suspicions at the time, some part of him always thought that Ohno would never go through with it- how could he? By this point, leaving Arashi would be like telling your heart to stop beating, to decide to hold a breath and never let it out. To do it willingly was inconceivable.  

“You kept me here,” Ohno tells him, serious, and Nino feels his words like a current, startling. “You, and the others- if you guys hadn't been there - if it had been anyone else -”

“- you would be happy as a clam, sitting on a fishing boat,” Nino finishes for him, voice deliberately light. Ohno shakes his head, undeterred.

“You told me that Arashi would follow me no matter what, that I would always be Leader,” Nino feels his gaze on him, and doesn't look his way. The others must be waiting for them. They should go. “You saved me, that day.”

“I was just repaying the favor,” Nino replies, more seriously than he intended to. “You saved me too, when we were first debuting. You gave me the courage to stay.”

It wasn't how he’d thought of it at the time, but now he sees Ohno’s words, his quiet responsibility, as a blessing. The reason that he is here today, standing beside the boy he’s loved for almost two decades.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out, blinking at the messages.

_Matsujun and I managed to wake Aiba-chan up, we’re going drinking with the managers (not that Aiba-chan needs any more alcohol). Feel free to come. Or not. Make sure Leader doesn't cry himself into dehydration, and have some dinner._

Jun: _We’re leaving. Don’t be a coward._

From Aiba: a string of hearts and exclamation marks, punctuated by _go for it_ ’s and _i believe in you, nino-chan!_ ’s

Nino gathers their bravery into himself, and turns to Ohno.

“Leader,” he says, meeting his eyes. Then, “Oh-chan.”

He hasn’t said that in a decade, and Ohno stares at him. Nino pauses, shakes his head.

“No, that’s not right.”

He walks into Ohno’s space, so that they are toe-to-toe, facing each other. Ohno lets him close, as he always does. Nino reaches out. Grasps both of his arms gently. Leans in.

“Satoshi,” he whispers, the weight of seventeen years between them, and closes the last gap.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hnnnnnng unedited


End file.
